It’s one of those weeks. My schedule is erratic, my days off are confused, my head is swimming with titles and to-do’s. While it’s absolutely wonderful that a beautiful, healthy baby boy has entered this world, we miss the presence and help of the new mother.
Not only that, but the Groom (remember the wedding?) leaves for Ireland next week, with the Bride following in another week. She’ll be starting her graduate studies in September. My little work family is leaving home! We’ll find new staff, I’ve no doubt, but for now I’m a little weary, and kind of sad.
Oh, and Harry Potter is coming.
I have a tiny rant: I’ve had this Dell laptop for about four years now, and the damn B key has just decided to, well, stop working unless I hit it really really hard. I removed it, cleaned under and inside it, did everything I could think of — but I had to order a new keyboard. While I wait I suppose my typing will have to continue to feel aggressive. I end up feeling aggressive after any time spent trying to type!
If you notice any missing B’s in anything I’ve written, please just smile and move on. I try to correct them as I go, but sometimes it’s just too much trouble! The space bar has issues, too, but not if I press it just so, and only on the right-hand end. I do need a new keyboard. I wish I needed a new computer, because I’d like to switch to a Mac, but try as I might, I can’t justify it for the B key and the space ar.
My thoughts have been with Laurie today. Her beloved Roy passed away. If you have ever had a spirit guide in the form of a cat, or some other small creature who just always seems to know who you are and what you need, then you’ll understand why just thinking about what those two meant to each other makes me cry.
This cat of mine, this Annabelle, has been keeping me company for eight years with her quiet steadfastness and her great sense of humor. Before her, Emma was my companion on some of the rockiest paths of my entire life, and she was a tireless trailblazer and guardian.
It makes perfect sense to me that in Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy the humans’ very souls are embodied in their daemons, and one cannot live without the other.
I’m almost finished knitting the baby blanket, and I’ve started to weave in the many ends. I should be able to deliver it next week. While my enthusiasm for this big thing didn’t fade, exactly, it was a casualty of my attention span. There have been many days (most of this week, really) that I’m too tired to knit more than one row on a sock, if anything. Hauling out the blanket, setting it up in my lap, getting in the groove — impossible.
The rest of this summer will have to be devoted to socks, I suppose.
Not Plain Jane 